


Field Research

by WretchedArtifact



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Consent Issues, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Pining, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24708469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WretchedArtifact/pseuds/WretchedArtifact
Summary: When Sam and Sebastian go to explore the old abandoned farm on the northwest of town, they stumble upon a mysterious crop of mushrooms, whose strange spores light their nerves on fire and threaten to upend their tenuously balanced friendship.
Relationships: Sam/Sebastian (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 309
Collections: Heat Fic Summer 2020





	Field Research

**Author's Note:**

  * For [faustin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faustin/gifts).



It was a drab, windy autumn weekend, and Sam and Sebastian had nothing to do. Usually Sam could kill a few hours practicing the guitar, but he’d been in a slump for the last few days, getting more and more frustrated as his fingers fumbled through the harder chord changes. Sebastian usually had freelance work he could be doing, but he’d just worked four 18-hour days in a row, trying to earn the last of the money he needed to buy a motorcycle. He was so burnt out he couldn’t even look at his computer.

The two of them sat in Sebastian’s basement bedroom and tried to find something to do. They pulled out old comic books and flipped through them, but they’d read them all a million times before. They got out a board game and set up all the cards and fiddly plastic pieces, but they stopped after five minutes of playing because neither of them were having any fun. They thumbed through Sebastian's DVD collection, but every time they found one they might want to watch, just the act of cracking open the case filled them with such ennui that they closed it again and put it back on the shelf.

“Ugh,” Sebastian said, flopping down on his bed. “This is depressing.”

Sam was sitting on the floor, at eye-level with Sebastian’s bed, and his eyes trained on the half of Sebastian that was still visible: one arm dangling over the edge of the mattress, one leg outlined in black denim. There was a little spot of bare skin showing on Sebastian’s side where his t-shirt had pulled up, and Sam’s eyes lingered on that spot for longer than he meant to. “Yeah,” he said, dropping his gaze to the carpet. 

“I wish I had my motorcycle already,” Sebastian said. “I could drive us to Zuzu City and we could see a band.”

On the one hand, being able to zip off to Zuzu City whenever they felt like it sounded awesome; on the other hand, Sam was honestly nervous about the idea of being pressed up against Sebastian on the back of a motorcycle. The two of them had been friends for almost two years now, and Sam had mostly tamped down the...inconvenient feelings that had dogged him since the early days of their friendship. But he didn’t know how tamped-down those feelings could stay if he was literally hugging Sebastian for two hours round-trip.

“Let’s just do something outside,” Sebastian said. “I’m sick of this room, anyway.”

The two of them put on their jackets and went out into the windy afternoon. They started heading toward the north end of the lake, but somehow even the outdoors seemed to be conspiring against them: there was a large Joja excavation project blocking the footbridge to the east. Not that the two of them _should_ _’ve_ been poking around in the mines, or standing near the edge of the rotted bridge to the quarry and pitching rocks into the canyon, but it would’ve been nice to have the _option_. “Well, damn,” Sam said as they begrudgingly turned back around. “Should we head into town? We could go to the saloon.”

“Nah, we were just there on Friday,” Sebastian said. “I guess we could go and see if Abigail’s doing anything.”

Sam felt his spine stiffen. It wasn’t that he didn’t like hanging out with Abigail—it was just that the vibe was always different when she was around. Sebastian had this way of talking to her that was different from the way he talked to Sam: slightly too casual, like he was trying to come off as cool in her eyes. It was the kind of way you talked to people you liked, and Sam really wasn’t in the mood to be reminded of how much Sebastian liked Abigail just then. “I just wish there was something _new_ to do around here,” Sam said. “Or someplace we haven’t already been a million times.”

Unexpectedly, Sebastian’s face went thoughtful. “I guess there’s one thing that’s kind of new,” he said. He pointed into the distance past his house.

Sam squinted. Sebastian’s house was bordered on one side by a thicket of trees and scrub brush, but now Sam could see an unexpected gap in the foliage. “Wait, what is that?” Sam asked.

“My mom and Demetrius cleared out the old road that used to be there,” Sebastian said. “Demetrius was doing that stupid soil survey all summer, and he said it’d be _incomplete_ if he couldn’t get to that part of the valley.”

The two of them walked over to the gap in the trees. As they got closer, Sam could see all the places where the foliage had been recently hacked away, the raw wood scabbed over with sap. To his surprise, just past the opening, there was an old-as-hell wooden sign stuck into the dirt, pitted with lichen and looking like a strong wind would shiver it to pieces. It said _Fruitbody Farms_ , with an arrow pointing west.

“Huh,” Sam said. “I didn’t know that old farm had a name.”

“Weird name,” Sebastian said. “No wonder they went out of business.”

Sam shielded his eyes and looked down the length of the dirt road. It seemed to go a long ways into the distance. “Have you explored down there yet?”

“No,” Sebastian said. “I didn’t want to accidentally run into Demetrius and get roped into taking dirt samples.”

The thought of exploring something new and unknown energized Sam for the first time that day. The two of them started heading down the roughly bushwhacked road, which was just wide enough that they could walk side-by-side. Even though the trees and vegetation were the same kind they saw all over Stardew Valley, there was something cool about walking in a place that had once been overgrown and abandoned. The dirt path was mostly flat, but there were a few potholes where Sebastian’s mom had cleared out tree stumps. “Watch it,” Sebastian said, grabbing Sam’s arm about a half-second before he stuck his foot into one. “If you twist your ankle, it’s going to be a pain in the ass to get you back home.”

Sam’s heartbeat accelerated, half from the near-miss and half from the way Sebastian’s hand was gripping his arm. “Thanks,” he said.

There were only a few signs of human influence as they walked down the long path. They saw some little flags on wire stems that Demetrius was using to mark the soil, and some moldering apple cores and orange peels that were clearly left over from his and Robin’s lunches. Later, when the path hit a rock formation and started bending to the south, they found another wooden sign tipped over in the dirt. Sam reached down and hefted it back up, leaning it against the rock. It was painted, and while years of direct sunlight had faded the image, the words were still visible:

**_FRUITBODY FARMS_ **

_**Savory and sweet, home to all-natural treats!** _

“Did your mom cut the path all the way down to the farm?” Sam asked.

“Probably,” Sebastian said. “Demetrius wanted soil samples from literally everywhere. ”

“Then let’s go check it out!”

In their many bored wanderings across Stardew Valley, Sam and Sebastian had explored the outer edges of the old farm, but the fields were so densely overgrown that it was way too much of a hassle to try and explore anything in the middle. The newly uncovered road was taking them somewhere they’d never been before. As they picked their way down the sloping path, they could see the tips of buildings in the distance: a wooden roof, a tall stone silo, and an unfamiliar frame-like structure. When the road finally deposited them onto the farm itself, Sam saw that the frame-like structure was a broken-down old greenhouse, its cracked panes of glass glinting in the sunlight. “Hey, cool,” Sam said, heading toward it. 

Sebastian snorted. “You have a low standard for _cool_.”

“I don’t know, it’s interesting,” Sam said. “It’s _new_. You think anything’s still growing inside?”

The farmland here was choked with tree saplings, rocks, and tall dry grass, and the two of them had to pick their way carefully over to the one intact side of the abandoned greenhouse. Most of the glass on the other three sides had broken and lay scattered dangerously on the ground, but the remaining wall held mostly intact panes. The two of them stepped up to the dirty glass and saw something unexpected inside: a large square plot of soil carpeted in bright red lumps. Their blood-red color was so vivid against the dull browns and oranges of the autumn landscape that it was startling. “What _are_ those?” Sam asked.

Sebastian rubbed off some of the dirt on the glass and looked closer. “I think they’re mushrooms,” he said.

Once he said it, Sam’s eyes shifted to make out the shapes correctly. He was looking at thousands and thousands of peaked red caps, all dotted with small white circles. The inside of the greenhouse was choked with them. “Aren’t those super poisonous?” Sam asked. “Why would you grow poisonous mushrooms in a greenhouse?”

“This place has been abandoned for years,” Sebastian said. “Mushroom spores travel on the wind, you know. They probably blew inside when the glass broke and took over.”

Sam had to hide his smile. Every now and then, Sebastian would say a scientific fact in the exact same tone of voice Demetrius used, which was both hilarious and not something Sam could ever point out to him in a million years. The two of them stepped back from the glass, and Sam noticed that the pane they’d been looking through had a starburst fracture in the middle, its cracks spiderwebbing out towards the edges of the glass. “Huh,” he said. “I wonder how easily this thing would break if you chucked a rock right at the spot where the cracks start.”

Sam leaned down and started searching around in the dry grasses for a rock. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Sebastian said. He didn’t have the same taste for property damage that Sam did. “You’re going to get glass everywhere if it breaks.”

“Nah, it’d just fall to the ground right in front,” Sam said. He straightened up and brandished a fist-sized rock. “Dare me to do it?”

“Like I could stop you.”

The two of them backed up to several yards away, and Sam rolled his arm theatrically a few times before hurling the rock hard against the glass. It missed the starburst center of the crack, but it hit one of the longer cracks with a sharp _bang._ There was a weird, shivery sound of glass pulling apart, and the crack shot upward by almost a foot.

Sam looked over at Sebastian. He could tell Sebastian was begrudgingly interested now. “First one to break the whole thing wins,” Sam said.

Sebastian groaned, but when Sam leaned down to find another rock, he leaned down too. “You’re going to get us in so much fucking trouble,” Sebastian said.

“Why?” Sam asked. “If anyone buys this farm, they’re going to have to tear out all this old glass anyway. We’re just saving them the trouble.”

He pitched another rock at the glass, opening up a different crack by a few inches. Sebastian heaved _his_ rock, and his aim was unfairly perfect, hitting the starburst fracture dead-on and making every single crack in the glass lurch outward a few inches. “Okay, this is kind of cool,” Sebastian admitted, and leaned down again to dig up another rock.

For a few minutes, the two of them pitched stone after stone at the pane, cheering whenever they sent another silver fissure slicing through an untouched area of glass. Every now and then they’d bullseye the starburst fracture, and the reverberation of the strike would shiver up all the spiderweb cracks, making them stretch higher and higher. Finally one crack made it to the top of the frame, and there was a strange scraping sound as a large, triangular chunk of glass separated itself from the larger pane and crashed to the ground.

“Yeah!” Sam said, high-fiving Sebastian. “That was awesome. I bet we can get the rest of it to fall if we—”

He felt a sudden gust of air against his face. The autumn winds, which held been held at bay by the intact wall of glass, now had a new outlet to funnel through. It was blowing something strangely gritty into their faces. Sam and Sebastian both turned away, shielding their eyes. “Shit,” Sebastian said. “What is this stuff?”

The shoulders of his jacket were speckled with fine, cream-colored particles. Sam looked down and saw the same particles on the sleeves of his hoodie. He tried brushing them off, but they were weirdly sticky: the ones that did come off stuck to his hands instead of falling to the ground. “Gross,” Sam said.

Sebastian sneezed. Sam realized that Sebastian’s black hair was dusted with the particles too, and he reached over and swiped his hand backwards through Sebastian’s hair so it wasn’t dangling in his face. Most of the particles didn’t move, adhering stickily to the strands. “What are you doing?” Sebastian said.

“Whatever this stuff is, it’s in your hair,” Sam said.

“It’s in yours too.”

Sam pushed has hand back through his own hair and felt the sticky particles catch on his skin. He shielded his eyes again and took a look back at the greenhouse. A fresh gust of wind was funneling out of the newly created hole in the glass, and it was carrying with it dull clouds of particulate matter, dense enough that it was visible even in the late afternoon light.

Sam’s stomach dropped. “Oh shit,” he said. “You don’t think these are mushroom spores, do you?”

Sebastian looked back at the greenhouse, and Sam saw dawning panic take over his face. “ _Shit,_ ” Sebastian said. “This stuff is probably _poisonous_ , Sam! _”_

Oh fuck. “Okay, okay,” Sam said, trying to think. “Then we should wash it off, right? The farmhouse is over there. Maybe we can get inside and use their sink.”

The two of them started running towards the squat wooden house, a gust of gritty wind blowing against their backs. Sam’s longer legs carried him faster, and he was the first to scramble up the creaky wooden porch and try the knob of the door. It was locked. “Shit,” he said. He turned around and spotted a small pond near the entrance to the farm. “Okay, how about that?”

The two of them rushed up to the edge of the water and shoved their hands into it. It was a little murky and fishy-smelling, but neither of them cared as they splashed water onto their faces and heads, soaking their hair and scrubbing away the particles clinging to their skin. _“Shit, shit, shit,”_ Sebastian chanted under his breath, and Sam saw that his normally pale skin was flushed pink. “Do you feel hot all of a sudden?”

“It’s because we were running,” Sam said weakly, unzipping his hoodie and pulling it off. His arms in their short sleeves were flushed a similar pink.

“Or it’s because we’re fucking _poisoned!_ _”_ Sebastian said, tearing his own jacket off. His wet hair dripped down over his face, and he sneezed twice in quick succession. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

“It’s okay,” Sam said, even though panic was starting to flood his brain, and his own skin was beginning to burn uncomfortably hot. “The road to town’s over that way. If we can get to Dr. Harvey’s—”

“That’s a twenty minute walk!” Sebastian said. He ripped off his black t-shirt and leaned down to splash his bare chest with water. His whole body was flushed the same pink as his face, and even in Sam’s panicked distraction, he couldn’t help but stare for a moment at Sebastian’s lean chest, his nipples pebble-hard and prominent. Shit, why was he thinking about stuff like _that_ right now? It was like his brain was over-cooking his thoughts in his head. 

Then Sebastian seemed to freeze up, his entire body going stiff mid-splash. His face flushed even darker. “Oh—fuck,” he said, his voice oddly strained, and then he rolled over onto his side in the dirt and curled up like a pillbug with his back to Sam.

“Sebastian!” Sam almost yelled, scrambling over the rocky dirt to get to him. He laid wet hands on Sebastian’s flushed, bare back and tried to roll him back over. “Sebastian, what are you—”

To his surprise, Sebastian flung one arm up and roughly pushed Sam’s hands away. _“Don’t_ ,” he said fiercely, his voice still strained. “I’m—I’m fine, I’m not dying or anything, just— _don’t touch me._ ”

For a second, the harshness of those words speared through the fog in Sam’s head and filled him with surprising pain. Sam hardly ever touched Sebastian, precisely because he had a secret fear of hearing those exact words, said in that exact same tone of voice. Sebastian didn’t know about Sam’s feelings for him, but in Sam’s worst nightmares Sebastian guessed it, and Sam's dreaming brain always supplied that same tone of panicked disgust for Sebastian. _Don’t touch me._ To hear the words coming from the real Sebastian's mouth made Sam’s stomach churn with startled nausea.

But then a strange sensation rolled through the rest of Sam’s body. The heat inside him, growing hotter and more uncomfortable by the second, seemed to crest like a boiling wave and crash through his nervous system with a strangely pleasurable rush. Sweat sprang to his skin—he could feel the way it mixed uncomfortably with the water at his hairline—and for some reason he was suddenly aware of his nipples underneath his shirt, hard and sensitive against the thin cloth. He braced one hand against the ground, meaning to stand up, but as soon as he unfolded his body a little, he felt—

He felt—

Sam froze in place. Between his legs, he felt a surge of unprompted and uncharacteristically strong pleasure, coming over him so quickly that he actually felt his cock harden and start to strain against the inside of his jeans. “Oh—shit,” he said, his brain fogging up again with panic. He lurched a few feet away from Sebastian and crashed onto his side in the dirt, curling up around his inexplicably throbbing dick.

For half a minute the two of them just lay there on the ground, not speaking. Sam thought he could hear Sebastian’s breathing, coming labored and fast, but it might’ve just been the sound of the wind gusting through the tree leaves overhead. Sam’s own breathing was loud and strangely desperate-sounding as he tried to mentally will his cock to go down. It didn’t. What the fuck was happening? The fogginess in his head, the almost painful hardness of his dick—was it a symptom of poisoning? Were they both seconds away from keeling over dead in the most embarrassing way possible?

“Uh,” Sebastian said. His voice was faint and hard to hear over the wind. “Um. Are you feeling—?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. A lick of embarrassment went up his spine, and for some reason it felt oddly _good._ “Are you?”

“Yeah.”

Well, at the very least, it made his “ _don’t touch me”_ make more sense. Sam could barely handle the tickle of his shirt against his skin. Just the thought of Sebastian touching his hand against Sam's bare skin made Sam’s dick twitch inside his jeans. The constraining fabric down there was starting to become painful. “I don’t know what to do,” Sam said. “I still think we should go to Dr. Harvey’s, but I don’t think I can make it like...this.”

“Me neither.”

They went another half-minute without speaking, the wind whistling loudly over their heads. Sam’s cock was pressing so painfully against his jeans that his hands stole down there unthinkingly, wresting open the button and drawing down his zipper. He fumbled at the fly of his underwear on pure autopilot, and it wasn’t until he had his bare cock gripped tightly in his fist that his foggy brain caught up with what he was doing. A thrill of horror went through him. He had just taken his cock out, and Sebastian was only _four feet behind him_. And he couldn’t bring himself to let go, either, because it felt _so good_ , the grip of his hand an indescribable relief. It took every ounce of his willpower not to start jerking himself off right there and then.

“Um,” Sam said. The mixture of strain and embarrassment in his voice was obvious. “Maybe we should just...take care of it? You know?”

There was a moment of painfully heavy silence. “Uh...” Sebastian said.

Sam’s already-flushed face went sizzling hot. “By ourselves!” he added quickly, in case Sebastian thought he meant otherwise. “If we can just...get rid of it for now, maybe that’ll be enough to let us walk back into town.”

There was another prolonged silence. “Yeah,” Sebastian said at last, and now the strain and embarrassment was obvious in his voice, too. “Um. Okay, yeah. I guess just...say something when you’re done, all right?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “You too.”

They both lapsed back into silence. Even though Sam had permission to move his hand now, the embarrassment of the situation was so paralyzing that his fist stayed clenched and motionless around his cock. Fuck. _Fuck._ How was he going to be able to look Sebastian in the eye after this was over?

Then the gusting autumn wind died down for a moment, and the whistling sound through the tree leaves subsided. In the newfound quiet, Sam realized he could hear sounds coming from Sebastian, just a few feet behind his back. There was no mistaking it: Sam could hear Sebastian’s fast, panting breaths, accompanied by a strange, fleshy whisper of sound.

The sound of Sebastian’s hand pumping rapidly on his cock.

Desire scorched through Sam’s veins like a lightning strike, so hot and fast that he felt like he was burning up from the inside out. His hand lurched upward on his own cock, dragging out an incredible thrill of pleasure, and he bit down harshly on his lip so he couldn't moan. Oh fuck, oh _fuck,_ the sound coming from behind him was the hottest thing Sam had ever experienced in his life. Four feet away, Sebastian was curled up in the dirt, jerking his cock with such vigor that Sam could hear it—could match its rhythm, if he wanted to. Sam’s hand started sliding up and down on his own cock, the pleasure instantly overwhelming, the audible sound of Sebastian’s moving fist hooked into his brain like a fishing line. Sam wasn’t going to be able to look Sebastian in the eye after this, but in this exact second it was _amazing_ , the sound of their fists pumping in unison, their panting breaths synchronized, a blissful desperation coiling tighter and tighter inside Sam’s body.

Then, with unexpected quickness, Sam heard Sebastian _moan_ : a long, low, shuddering moan that was so clearly the sound of him coming that it yanked the tether in Sam’s brain taut. Sam tripped into his own orgasm like he’d stumbled over a tree root, the blissful desperation inside of him curling up tight and then exploding outwards. It sent wave after wave of wonderful feeling rocking through him, and he squeezed his eyes shut and rode it out for what felt like forever, come dripping over his moving fingers, his mouth open and gasping air into his overwhelmed lungs.

Then, abruptly, his mouth wasn’t his own anymore. Something soft and wet was clamping down on his lips, and a gust of close, warm air buffeted against Sam’s face. Sam opened his dazed eyes and saw—

Sebastian.

 _Sebastian,_ his flushed face outlined by the cloudy blue sky, his damp black hair falling over his forehead as he leaned over Sam.

Kissing him.

Sam’s foggy brain stuttered in absolute disbelief, even as their mouths started moving together in a ragged, instinctual rhythm. He was kissing Sebastian. Sebastian was kissing _him._ But Sebastian wouldn’t—

Sebastian _wasn’t—_

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian murmured urgently, sparing only the slightest breath for words in between the crush of their mouths together. “I just—I _have_ to. Don’t you feel like that? Like we have to?”

Then it wasn’t just Sebastian’s mouth on him: it was _Sebastian,_ the full weight of his body crushing Sam back into the dirt. Dry autumn grasses crunched underneath them as Sebastian’s bare chest pressed tight against Sam’s shirtfront, as his hips slotted hard against Sam’s. Sam’s cock, momentarily forgotten in his surprise, started to ache painfully under the pressure of Sebastian’s body. It wasn’t the ache of overuse, either: it was a fresh, hungry ache, as if his cock had completely forgotten he had just come thirty seconds ago.

One of Sebastian’s hands cupped Sam’s cheek, and the intimacy of it sent a shivering thrill through Sam’s heart. Sam reached out blindly, wrapping one arm around Sebastian’s waist, sliding his other hand into Sebastian’s damp hair. They kissed again, tongues pushing into each other’s mouths, and Sam let out a burbled moan as he _tasted_ Sebastian, the faint, familiar spice of the clove cigarettes he smoked. Holy shit, how was this happening? How had this nightmare somehow turned into every dream he’d ever had about Sebastian: their bodies and mouths pressed together eagerly, shamelessly? “Sebastian,” Sam managed to get out in between kisses. “I’m—I’m sorry, this is—this is all my fault.”

“You and your fucking _rocks_ ,” Sebastian said, but his voice held an odd mixture of vehemence and fondness. He dug his hips hard against Sam’s, and for the first time Sam realized that he could feel Sebastian’s cock against his thigh, still stiff, even though _he’d_ only come a minute ago, too. Sam reached down between their bodies and was stopped by the wild tangle of cloth from their undone jeans and pulled-aside underwear.

“Can you—take these off?” Sam gasped into Sebastian’s mouth.

Sebastian made a sound like he was exerting Herculean effort and hitched his hips up for a second. He shoved off his jeans and underwear, and then fitted their hips back together, the burning heat of his cock sliding into place alongside Sam’s. “Oh _shit_ ,” Sam breathed as their bare cocks rubbed together, and with wild, unthinking desperation he clamped his hands onto Sebastian’s waist and rocked his hips upward. He heard Sebastian’s shuddering breath, and then Sebastian’s mouth crashed into his again, his hips shoving downward, until their bare cocks were trapped between their rutting, grinding bodies.

The fog of intense pleasure in Sam’s brain momentarily silenced the panic of his thoughts. He focused every particle of his attention on the fast and frantic rhythm of their hips, clutching Sebastian to him for leverage as their bodies rocked tightly together in the dirt. Sam had never held anyone like that before, so close and intimate, just as he had never felt the stiff heat of someone else’s cock rubbing against him. Sam had basically no experience—where was he supposed to get it, in a place as small as Pelican Town?—and the fact that it was Sebastian’s moaning voice in his ear, Sebastian’s familiar scent muddying his nose, was so incredible that Sam could feel that blissful desperation starting to coil up inside him again.

Then Sebastian’s lips fumbled off Sam’s mouth with a gasp, and he started humping against Sam so strongly that Sam could barely move his hips to thrust back. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Sebastian said, his eyes closed tight, and Sam watched with dazed wonder as Sebastian came again, his face contorting, his writhing body cradled securely in Sam’s arms. Wetness pulsed against Sam’s cock, warm and slippery, and the knowledge that Sebastian’s come was on his skin instantly superseded every other turn-on Sam had experienced in the last few minutes. With a lurching gasp, Sam forced his hand in between their bodies and grasped his own cock, his grip slick and wet with the lubrication of Sebastian’s come. He started jerking himself hard, a thrilling rush shooting up his spine, over and over and over. He heard Sebastian mutter something, the words lost in a howl of wind overhead, and then Sebastian’s mouth was on his again, kissing him through it, both hands cupping the sides of Sam’s face with a warm firmness that made Sam’s heart ache in his chest. It all started to mix together inside Sam’s body: the blissful desperation, the aching want of his heart, the hidden panic starting to tickle the underside of his thoughts again. For these last few seconds, he could pretend this was all real: that Sebastian was kissing and touching him because he loved him, and not because his body had been hijacked to do things against his nature. Sam jerked his cock harder with the slippery evidence of Sebastian’s pleasure and pretended it wasn’t counterfeit, that Sebastian had come from the feeling of Sam’s body against his, and not from the maddening pathogen flooding through his veins.

After only a few more strokes Sam came, with a thrill and a rush and a _hurt_ , spreading out through his body in waves of sick warmth. He kept his lips clamped around Sebastian’s for as long as possible, dimly aware that once he let go, it was all over. He held on as the pleasure ebbed lower and lower, until finally he had to release his cock with a groan, breaking the tight seal of their lips.

For a long moment, neither of them moved, Sebastian’s hands still on Sam’s face, their bodies still pressed heavily together in the dirt. Sharp bits of grass were prickling Sam’s back through his t-shirt, and above them the autumn wind was singing through the tree leaves again, the cloudy blue sky impossibly wide and sprawling in Sam’s field of vision.

Then:

“Shit,” Sebastian said. He pulled himself up off Sam, clambering backwards a few feet and going to his knees in the dirt. For the first time, Sam saw the full expanse of Sebastian’s naked body: his lean limbs, his pale skin flushed from head to toe, his cock—oh shit, his fucking gorgeous _cock—_ still bouncing half-hard between his legs. Sebastian grabbed his abandoned jeans and puddled them in his lap, concealing his hard-on, and Sam felt a sharp flash of guilt for ogling him so obviously.

“Shit,” Sebastian repeated, raking his hand backward through his damp hair. “Sam, I’m—I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I—”

“No,” Sam said, fumbling himself up into a seated position. His own cock was still half-hard between his legs, and he wasn’t sure if it was more embarrassing to leave it out or to physically wrestle it back into his underwear. “This was all my fault. I’m the one who threw the stupid rocks, remember?”

“But I _touched_ you,” Sebastian said. “We were supposed to be taking care of it ourselves, and I fucking _forced_ myself on you.”

The low horror in his voice was too much for Sam to take. “No, you didn’t!” Sam exclaimed, leaning forward and awkwardly shielding his cock from view with his arms. “Seriously, Sebastian, you didn't. I wanted it just as much as you did.”

“But you _wouldn’t_ have, if it weren’t for—whatever that stuff was,” Sebastian said. “I know you’re not—” He closed his eyes with a grimace. “I know that’s not the kind of thing you want, Sam.”

A strange prickle went through Sam’s overtaxed nerves. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

Sebastian said, his voice tight and wretched: “I know you’ve got your _thing_ with Penny, and you don’t want—”

Wait, _what?_ “Dude, what the hell are you talking about?” Sam asked, his brow furrowing hard with disbelief. “I don’t have a _thing_ with Penny!”

“I know we don’t usually talk about stuff like that,” Sebastian gritted out. “Dating, or whatever. But—I’ve seen the way you act around her. You don’t have to pretend to make me feel better.”

After every insane thing that had happened in the last half-hour, this was possibly the most baffled Sam had felt all day. “Penny is Vincent’s _teacher_ ,” Sam said. “I don’t have a thing for her. I just...see her, and talk to her. You know, like a _person._ ”

The grimace on Sebastian’s face didn’t relax at all, like he genuinely thought Sam was lying. “Dude, there’s a _reason_ I don’t talk to you about dating, and it’s not because I like Penny!” Sam exclaimed. “It’s because I—”

He stopped himself short. Oh, fuck, the truth had almost barreled out of his mouth like a freight train, ready to tear their friendship apart with a single sentence. What the fuck was he thinking? He could see Sebastian’s expression shifting now, his grimace turning hesitant and confused, and Sam’s overtaxed brain tried to grasp for some way to salvage the end of that sentence. “It’s because I know _you_ don’t like to talk about it,” Sam said, trying to force some conviction into his voice. “I know you have your thing with Abigail, and you don’t like to talk about—”

Sebastian rocked back on his heels a little, his expression veering into disbelief. “I don’t have a _thing_ for Abigail!”

“Okay, now who’s lying?” Sam said, leaning forward in his vehemence. “You think I don't see it? You treat us differently, dude. You don’t talk to me the same way you talk to her at all.”

“I talk to her like a friend!” Sebastian said. “Like someone I hang out with! Why would I talk to you the same way? You’re—”

Now _he_ stopped short. The next words hovered behind his closed lips, and another strange prickle crept through Sam's veins as he waited in suspense for those words to fall. “I’m what?” Sam asked finally.

Sebastian’s face and chest were flushed a deeper red than the rest of his skin now. “You’re...more than that,” he said, his voice low.

Sam stared at him, his words momentarily lost in his throat. Shit, the two of them made a ridiculous sight just then: Sebastian naked and on his knees in the dirt, Sam leaning forward with his cock out and his entire back covered in spiky bits of dried grass. But Sam couldn’t bring himself to care about any of that. The look in Sebastian’s eyes was startlingly vulnerable, unlike anything Sam had ever seen in his expression before.

_You're more than that._

Sam breathed in, his stomach knotting up with instinctive fear as he opened his mouth. “You’re more than that to me too, Sebastian,” he said.

Sebastian’s brow furrowed just the slightest bit, like he hadn’t expected Sam to say it. Sam breathed in again. “You didn’t force yourself on me,” Sam said, trying to keep his voice steady, “because I wanted it just as much as you did. Okay? And I would’ve wanted it _without_ the...whatever it was. I would’ve wanted it back at the house, when we were so fucking bored and had nothing to do. I would’ve wanted it two years ago, like a week after I met you.”

Sebastian just looked at him, his eyes widening, his lips slightly parted. His damp black hair fluttered backward in a fresh gust of wind. "I just...” Sam said. “I don't know. I didn’t want to ruin our friendsh—”

And then Sebastian was moving forward, launching himself through the dirt and grass until he was on top of Sam again, crushing him back down onto the dirt. “You fucking _idiot,”_ Sebastian said, every inch of his body pressed up against Sam’s, his hands coming back up to cup Sam’s face. “We were so fucking bored today, and we could’ve been doing _this_ the whole time—"

And then their mouths were on each other again, lips clasping together in that ragged, wonderful, breathless rhythm. Sam wrapped his arms around Sebastian, clutching him close and tight, and he felt the skin of Sebastian's back pebble into goosebumps under his hands. The wind was blowing colder against their skin now; whatever had gotten into their systems had almost entirely worked itself back out.

And now all that was left was the two of them: their mouths moving freely, their bodies crushed together tightly, and a whole lazy afternoon to fill with whatever their giddy minds could come up with.


End file.
